I Prefer Meh Over Feeling Great

I’m not sure if it’s part of what’s wrong with my brain that feeling “too” good sets me up for disaster because it actually causes me stress to feel good. I’d much prefer just to be right in the middle if not a little melancholy. I actually prefer “meh.”

On Saturday night I absolutely binged. Could not stop eating. On Sunday I only did slightly better. On both those days I didn’t swim or walk.

When feeling decent I begin to think about my future and what I’ll end up doing. Will there be a settlement? Will it be enough to start a new life? What if my business idea is stupid? And I get filled with doubts like, “WTF do you know about starting your own business? Who do you think you are?”

These are the same fears I’ve had all my life when it came to taking chances.

It takes courage to take risks. It takes resolve to decide to embark on them and then give it all you’ve got and not back down. I’m a lifelong quitter — I’m hardly courageous.

I have done things that might be considered courageous to some, but simply reckless to others, like meeting my husband online and moving with him to London. But things really did go belly up quite quickly and from then on I lived a double life, trying to pretend I lived an exotic and exciting life, when really I was simply watching my life savings disappear.

Today’s Chump Lady post is about the types of cheaters who are real “sickos” and I read it and thought, ‘Well, thank goodness for small favors. My husband isn ‘t that bad.”

What a fool I am.

Okay, he’s not as bad as some, but surely his behavior towards me was at the least thoughtless and selfish, and at the most, cruel and put me at risk.

I have to fucking remind myself how awful he’s been because I’m still enamored with the asshole and for that, I’m really pissed at myself. WTF!?

Also, I need to remind myself right now that he is treating me kindly at present BECAUSE HIS FUCKING CASE IS PENDING AND I CAN HELP HIM MAKE HIS CASE. HE NEEDS ME. IF HE DIDN’T NEED ME, HE’D PROBABLY BE TREATING ME AS HE WAS NINE MONTHS AGO, WORSE THAN A COMPLETE STRANGER.

Sorry for the yelling. I’m yelling at myself. I need to keep that man at arm’s length emotionally.

I am shocked at how naive I am. Truly shocked. Shocked at how I want to believe the best in him and how if I let my true feelings be shown to him he’ll be “disappointed” in me or some other fucking nonsense.

Is he a master at this or am I really this stupid? Probably both.

How can I be so kind to a man who basically thought nothing of “allowing” me to use my entire fortune to pay for our lifestyle for eight years, hardly ever attempting to earn a dime? Then he cheats on me and abandons me and blames it all on my anxiety. The anxiety I would not have had if he had only helped to provide for us.

Because, you know, you’re supposed to be a loving and calm sex kitten while someone uses up all your resources and if you complain, well then you must be materialistic! Gasp! Not the M word!?

Even now he holds his head up high and repeats what he repeated all along that he “never asked” me for anything which is more or less true. But he made it clear what he wanted and his hand was always open and extended. To not fill his hand made me look selfish and as though I didn’t “believe” in him.

This is a man, who in that last year in London, I felt might actually murder me. There was one incident with a knife and one incident where he began to choke me.

I need to fucking remember that. The fear on both occasions that this might be how I go out. The fucking fear!

The cruel things that came out of his mouth, not only about me, but about my daughter, my mother, father, brother. For some reason he thought himself superior to all of us peons who worked hard throughout our lives. He was royalty; he could not be expected to roll up his sleeves like the rest of us.

Oh I need to go along with this charade, and I will. My future depends on this settlement being as big as possible, after all, his attorney will get 33% and he and I will split the rest. It needs to be a significant amount! But I MUST remember that this is a game and we are not playing it TOGETHER.

The idea that I was/am feeling a bit sad about when/if he leaves town is absurd and I am ashamed I feel that way at times. He needs to get the fuck away from me so that I can heal and move on with my life.

Fuck. I can’t believe how much I’ve been damaged by him and now warped my way of thinking is. I am brainwashed. I do have PTSD.

I just went to swim and while I swam I thought about my potential new business and not about my husband. Yay.

When I came home he called me and I kept my answers super short. He said, “It sounds like you’re busy. I’ll let you go.” And I said, “Okay” and we hung up.

I found out my women in transition group is canceled for tomorrow night because one of the organizers is on vacation, so that’s good. I can attend the startup meeting instead. I’m a bit nervous, because most of the people who are going to it are in the high tech world (computers or biotechnology, mostly) but it’s open to all entrepreneurs. So I’ll go there at 5 tomorrow and see what I can glean.

Focus on health. Focus on work. Focus on anything except you know who. And strive for “meh” not only with regards to him, but in general. I prefer meh.

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